


Snakecharmer

by Dolf241



Category: Warhammer - All Media Types, Warhammer 40.000
Genre: 40k Naga at least, Alien Sex, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bukkake, Come Shot, Consensual Sex, Creampie, Double Penetration, F/M, Femdom, Hemipenes, It's not heresy if the Emperor gives you a letter saying it's okay, Missionary Position, Monster sex, Naga, Oral Sex, Power Bottom, Tail Sex, Teratophilia, Vaginal Sex, Xenophilia, sslyth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:27:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27758404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolf241/pseuds/Dolf241
Summary: Recovering from injuries sustained battling the Emperor's enemies, Rogue Trader Tarriel Eleonora Corvinius seeks to relax in the arms of her bodyguard - the monstrous alien Sslyth, Uraess. This was written for one of the players in my Wrath and Glory game.
Relationships: Human/Ssylth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Snakecharmer

Silence was a rare luxury aboard the Esperanza. From the deep thrum of the ancient vessel's plasma engines to the chatter of cogitator-banks, to the barracks-room boasts of its crew decks and the endless litanies of reports she received from her subordinates, Lord-Captain Tarriel rarely enjoyed a moment of true peace. There was always something there, fighting for her attention, distracting her from whatever matter she was otherwise concerned with. It left her tired. Irritable. Short-tempered.

More so than usual, at least. 

But her starship was quiet now, non-critical power sources eased down as its tech-adepts went about the work of salving its wounds. A skirmish with Ork pirates - normally barely worthy of note - had gone awry after a salvo of boarding torpedoes fired from a dying attack ship somehow slipped through a blind spot in the Esperanza's short-ranged defences. The greenskinned thugs had rampaged through her beloved ship for nearly a full hour before being corralled into a maintenance shrine on the lower decks and finally crushed. 

A stab of pain in the Rogue Trader's side reminded Tarriel of how well that battle had gone for her. She was as adept with pistol and blade as any of her senior armsmen, but there were limits to what one could accomplish when confronted by an eight-foot tall wall of alien muscle and rage. The memory made her wince; her charge towards the Ork boss had looked suitably heroic, and had certainly inspired her troops to make the final push which had seen the aliens slain. She just wished the greenskinned bastard hadn't almost broken her in half with its hammer afterwards.

Black robed adepts of Stygies VIII bowed and made the sign of the cog as she passed, their ragged hoods lit from within by eerily glowing optics. Armsmen snapped to attention and offered salutes before quickly turning to one another and whispering urgently the moment Tarriel turned her back to them. Rumours had spread quickly in the aftermath of the battle; that she was dead, that her senior staff were warring with one another over who would take possession of the ship, that she had survived but been murdered by her bodyguard the moment she was dragged clear.

Nonsense, of course. Had Tarriel known where the hearsay originated, she would have blown those responsible out of the airlocks without delay. But for now the best the Rogue Trader could do was ensure she was seen, and let the rumours fade out naturally. And so she walked the halls, despite her Chief Medicae's insistence otherwise, occasionally pausing to converse with a face she recognised or admonish a serf who felt his captain's convalescence was an excuse for laxity. Her path took her along the Esperanza's spine, towards her quarters, where she had arranged a treat to be waiting.

Even without her armour, Tarriel made for an imposing figure. The Rogue Trader was as tall as most men, strongly built and toned from a life of rigorous combat and exercise drills. Though well into her eighth decade, a regime of discreet surgeries and rejuve therapy had graced her the appearance of a handsome woman in her late thirties, with wintery eyes and stony features only accentuated by the few lines still visible on her face. It was no secret that many men - and not a few women - among the crew desired her, though the captain's legendary temper and utter intolerance for fools left few with the courage to pursue their fantasies further.

Which was a state of affairs Tarriel was entirely happy with. So long as it didn't interfere with the efficient running of her ship, they could amuse themselves with whatever libidinous dreams they damn well liked. But the moment their focus wandered, or they dared to assume a level of familiarity that did not exist, she broke their wings and cast them down like the doomed Ikarion of old Terra. 

Besides, she took her pleasure elsewhere.

Finally, after stopping at the bridge to exchange a few words with her command crew, Tarriel decided she'd done enough. Everyone who mattered had seen her now, and the peons she had crossed on her rounds would already be spreading word among the lower ranks. After passing on word that in three days time anyone still claiming she had died was to be flogged, she shook off her staff's lingering questions and retired to her quarters.

Here, at least, there was silence. Where much of Tarriel's ship was wreathed in shadows or lit by flickering electrocandles or dull luminabulbs, her private chambers were bathed in warm, soft light from a series of glow-globes set along the ceiling. The room was circular, tastefully decorated in pale marble, dominated by four elegant columns in the style of Greccan myth and a sweeping armaplas window open to the cold beauty of the stars. Tarriel breathed a sigh of relief and poured herself a glass of wine from the gold ampoule next to her bed, brushing aside the crimson drapes and lowering herself onto the silk sheets. 

There was nobody there. The bed was large enough for four bodies with room to spare, and Tarriel knew from personal experience that it could be shared by six at a push. Something about its emptiness offended her and she tutted, scowling like a child deprived of her Sanguinala gift. 

"Uraess?" Tarriel called. When no reply came, the Rogue Trader irritably sipped at her wine and ran a hand over the ruffled bedclothes. Someone had been there, she thought. Had he gotten bored? 

No. Of all her crew, Uraess was one of the few she trusted implicitly. Her bodyguard had never failed in his duties, never questioned his orders, and despite his mercenary nature never given her any reason to doubt or mistrust his motives. He wouldn't just...leave. Especially not when he surely knew why he had been summoned to her chambers. 

Tarriel set her drink aside and rose, kicking off her leather boots and padding softly over to an adjoining door. Her chambers consisted of more than just a bedroom; beyond stretched room after room of private armouries and trophy-rooms, armoured vaults for her most precious possessions, walk-in dressers, private chapels and...

Ah, she thought. Of course. The bathhouse. Turning on her heel, Tarriel quickly slipped through a second door and passed into a small changing room. An auto-dispenser for towels sat along one wall, a rack of bathing costumes ranging from the perfectly modest to the borderline heretical on the other. But it was the ungainly heap of black and gold metal in the corner which saw her mouth quirk up into a lopsided smile. 

"One day I'm going to train that bloody snake to pick up after himself," Tarriel snorted as she picked her way gingerly past. Two cleaver-like swords lay among the discarded armour, along with the oversized assault shotgun her bodyguard was so fond of. The thing was far too large for any human to use comfortably, but that came as no surprise. Uraess was not, after all, human.

Beyond the changing room lay Tarriel's bathhouse; like her boudoir it was modestly decorated, the round walls lined with low benches and statues of Imperial saints representing bodily purity, But while the first rose up towards her bed, the bathhouse sank down, the floor easing into low, circular steps which led her towards a deep pool of steaming hot, scented water. 

"I know you're in there, you damned fool," Tarriel remarked. She paced around the edge of the water, peering through the thick froth of bubbles which floated across its surface. "I told you, did I not, that you were to await me in my chambers. Does this look like my chambers to you, Uraess? Or do you think I sleep in the toilet?"

Her reply came in the form of an enormous plume of spray from the pool. Something erupted from within - something huge and muscular, twice the size of a man, water rolling from its black and red scales in a shimmering torrent. Four brawny arms gripped the lip of the pool and Uraess hauled himself into view, shaking his head like a wet dog.

"I am here, yours, as ever," the Sslyth hissed. His voice was strange - at once both deep and sibilant, starting as a gravelly rasp in his chest and finishing as a soft hiss as it passed over his fangs. "You would not want your ssservant to greet you clad in a raiment of blood and gore, I asssume."

It took Tarriel a moment to reply. The alien was magnificent; a great serpent wrought into the form of a four-armed man, rising a head and shoulders taller than her atop his tail, sleek and elegant despite the strange interplay of muscles which bulged beneath his ruddy scales. His head was almost crocodilian, flattened save a pair of small horns at the tip of his nose and the bony ridges which ran across his skull and shoulders, and he gazed down at her with slitted eyes the colour of polished gold.

"Oh, I don't know. It wouldn't be the first time I've taken you in the aftermath of battle." Tarriel reached out to touch him, letting her metal fingers trace the dozens of pock-marked scars which decorated the alien's chest. Each was the memory of a blade or a bullet which could have taken her life, one her faithful bodyguard had accepted in her place. "But yes, I think I prefer you like this. One should keep their most treasured possessions in good shape, after all."

Uraess let out a low rumble of pleasure. Sslyth, Tarriel had learned, were not complicated creatures. They weren't exactly stupid, but they were slow-witted and apathetic to anything which didn't concern their bellies or their loins, and as a species seemed content to loan their prodigious skills at violence to anyone who could sate both. Some of the more degenerate breeds of Eldar made good use of them as bodyguards, and Uraess had naturally fallen into a similar role once brought into her employment. 

Clawed hands pricked at her sides and her buttocks. Uraess leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear, forked tongue licking out to dance along her cheek. "Thisss is a true thing. Ever do we underssstand one another. Bringer-of-food, giver-of-warmth, partner-in-ecstacccy."

Water dripped from him into her loose bob of silvery hair and soaked into the loose tunic she had thrown on before departing the Medicae deck. Tarriel bit her lip and murmured something wordless in reply, her hand sliding lower, lower, down the alien's scarred chest and over his tight middrif. Even as she crept further down, towards the lip of the great serpent's genital slit, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her shoulders, followed another around her hips. Uraess hissed and pulled her in close, crushing the woman against his powerful body. 

"You're - mm - unusually clingy today. Normally you'd be pining for my mouth by now." 

"There wasss a fear you had fallen. Another reasson I left your chamber. There is lesss of you here. I did not worry so much."

Throne, Tarriel thought. And some buffoon thought he had assassinated me? It sounded like the idiot had barely managed a few hours without her. But as unexpected as the alien's display of affection was, the Rogue Trader couldn't find it in herself to brush him off. How many of her crew would genuinely mourn her passing? They might fear the disruption it would cause, or worry her replacement would bring their careers to an end. They might covet the opportunity her demise would cause. Would anyone but the far-flung members of her family even miss her?

Perhaps. Perhaps not. But it seemed Uraess would, so she tolerated his embrace, wrapping her augmetic arms around his broad torso until she felt an acceptable amount of time had passed. "Well, as nice as this is, Uraess, I didn't bring you here for a cuddle," she said. "Perhaps you're in the mood for a more, hmm, physical display of affection?"

He laughed then, a short, rasping noise in the back of his throat. "Alwaysss. Alwaysss. Sssee? I rissse for you, my hunger undimmed."

Tarriel glanced down. The Sslyth certainly wasn't lying; the muscular slit at the top of his tail had parted to reveal a pair of thick, pink organs, each one shockingly large, ridged and pierced with bars of dark metal along their underside. Planting a hand on Uraess' chest, Tarriel pushed him backwards and broke their embrace, smirking at the alien's brief chirp of surprise as she tugged her tunic over her head. Her smile only broadened at the sight of her bodyguard's reaction; he settled back on his coils, watching in rapture as she divested herself of her remaining clothes, his cocks twitching eagerly as they rose to their full, beautiful hardness. 

"Undimmed indeed," she remarked, planting a hand on her hip and raising an eyebrow. Her figure was generous; broad hips and a proud chest, her long legs and torso tight with lean muscle, free from any tell-tail signs of her false age. Onyx plates inlaid with gold and mother-of-pearl stretched across her shoulders and upper back, matching the artificer-crafted cybernetics which had long since replaced her natural arms. Far from the ugly prosthetics so common throughout the Imperium each was a true masterwork, wrought to perfectly match her physique and decorated with skull-shaped emblems to house the sensorum-tech inlaid into her palms. 

Uraess let out a needy hiss and reached to caress himself, only for Tarriel to slap him gently on the nose. "No need for that," she said, settling into a comfortable slouch before the serpentine alien and wrapping a hand around each of his twin cocks. A bead of clear precome had formed at the tip of one, and with a small moan of indulgence, the Rogue Trader lapped it up and placed a kiss where it had been. "I very likely would have died if you hadn't intervened. Consider this as much a reward for you as it is for me."

It was hardly the first time Tarriel had amused herself by fellating the great, scaly alien, and she soon relaxed into a familiar routine. Each was too large to comfortably get her lips around more than the head, so she licked, kissed, and stroked, working her tongue around their ridged contours and gently tugging on their piercings with her teeth. First one, then the other; her lips danced their way across one shaft while her hand cradled the next, long fingers teasing the underside of his crown until they were slick with pre. And then she swapped, hungrily lapping up the mess she had coaxed from the twitching length even as she began to coax a new flow from its twin.

Tarriel was not a creature given to unselfish acts, and for the most part expected her bathe in the adoration her partners would lavish upon her. But every time she looked up the length of Uraess' muscular body and saw his jagged face hanging slack-jawed and hazy eyed with bliss, she was rewarded with a pulse of arrogant pleasure deep in her core. It was a show of pure self-indulgence; his people were hedonists and sybarites, and yet she - she! - had conquered him, claimed him, left him helpless and desperate with but a few laps of her questing tongue. This was a pleasure no Sslyth, with their fanged, lipless mouths, could bestow. It was the chain she placed around the alien's neck and bound him to her - and, of course, the Imperium's - will.

"Hhhhng. Warm. Warm, sssoft, aah," Uraess groaned. His lower hands stroked Tarriel's snowy hair, weaving through her short locks and caressing her scalp, though he made no attempt to guide her movements or force himself deeper down her throat. Scales rippled and glistened as he panted, each breath strange and whistling but brimming with lust. "It isss...such a wonderful gift..."

As muffled as the Rogue Trader's reply was, there was no disguising the smugness in her chuckle. Uraess' hips began to roll gently back and forth, thrusting one cock and then the next closer in his desperation for a release they both knew Tarriel was in no hurry to grant. But then again, Tarriel could hardly disguise that the stimulation of her ego was beginning to show upon her body. A warm blush of arousal had spread across her face and her chest, and her nipples stood stiff and aching for attention. Her sex, too, pulsed with need, the first glistening drops of arousal winking from between her thighs as she worked them back and forth in search of release. 

"Tail," Tarriel murmured and lifted one of her legs. Uraess stirred from his daze and obediently slipped a loop of his tail into the proffered gap, hissing slightly as her thighs clenched tight and she ground down onto the muscular coil. It slipped back and forth between her lips like a pair of fingers, each drag across her sensitive flesh flowing into the pit of heat building in her stomach, slowly stoking the Rogue Trader's arousal to breaking point. Tarriel could feel herself beginning to shake, even as she played the hot point of her tongue from one hardness to the next. It was impatience rather than desperation, a bone-deep need for more, and it would not be kept at bay for much longer.

Tarriel could feel herself beginning to shake; Ureass' strange, perfumed odour was thick in the air, a narcotic sweetness that set her senses buzzing with anticipation. Finally she pulled away with a regretful moan, leaving the hulking alien's twin cocks twitching in desperation. 

"Apologies, Uraess, but you shan't be ruining my makeup tonight. Not yet, at least." Tarriel winced as she stood, the pain in her ribs biting as she shook the stiffness from her legs. "I'll take my fill of you first."

"Both?" Uraess asked, his voice rumbling hopefully.

"Of course. Now, if you're quite finished with exhausting my bathing supplies, perhaps you'd like to follow me back to where you were supposed to wait?"

The Sslyth accepted his admonishment with a low bow of his scaly head and slithered after Tarriel's departing form, following her back to her bedchambers and dripping a trail of bathwater over the floor as he went. Tarriel fought the urge to roll her eyes. Uraess was like a canid puppy at times; overeager and clumsily desperate to please, always seeking to earn a reward from her. Probably because he knows damn well what form they come in, she added silently. And that I do so enjoy having an excuse to grant them.

"Dry yourself off first," she called back, brushing aside the drapes and climbing back onto her bed. Silk and crushed velvet tickled over her bare skin, and the Rogue Trader let out an indulgent sigh as she sank into the ocean of sheets. "I don't want you dragging water all over the carpet."

"Yess, mistresss."

Neither of them mentioned the sheets, which both knew were unlikely to survive the ensuring coupling unstained. That was a matter for the ship's serfs, who had long learned not to question the odd marks on the sheets they processed in the Esperanza's vast cleansing-halls. By the time Uraess arrived, two towels held between his four arms and a third draped around his gnarled shoulders Tarriel had splayed herself across the bed, supporting her head on one hand even as the other ran over her aching folds. For a moment their eyes met though the gap in the drapes before the Sslyth turned away, drying himself with his upper arms even as he stroked himself with the lower. 

"If you shoot before even getting on the bed, then I'm leaving you on the next planet we make port at," Tarriel called. Any other time she might have appreciated the show, but her blood was already up, her sex trembling with each sweep of her metal fingers. "Stop showing off and get up here, I'm in no mood to be kept waiting."

The drapes parted; Uraess' head appeared, tongue flicking as he scented his mistress' arousal in the air. Then came his shoulders, almost twice as broad as Tarriel herself, humped and jagged with scaly ridges and scars. Two arms gripped the bannisters, two more sunk into the bedding, and with a low hiss of effort Uraess hauled his enormous body up to join her. He seemed to go on and on forever; foot after foot of him poured through the slit in the drapes, coiling onto every inch of free space as if he sought to devour her and the bed alike. It groaned like a beast in pain beneath the weight of him, the sheets rising up to engulf them both as they sank into one another. 

He'd told her of participating in mating-orgies once, where dozens of male Sslyth would copulate with a single one of their women at once. For a moment the thought of being so utterly surrounded danced through her mind, tendrils of hot arousal spreading to every corner of her body, before reality asserted itself and she pushed the idea aside. That would be several steps too far; one Sslyth was quite enough. Though two would be an interesting experiment. And as Uraess' clawed hands began to stroked their way over her languid form, gripping her hips and her breasts and her shoulders all at once, she caught herself wondering what another eight hands would feel like if she tried three...

"How do you wisssh me, misstress?" Uraess' voice hissed in her ear. A claw traced along the generous curve of her bust, digging fractionally into her dusky skin and drawing a faint breath of pleasure from her throat. "Beneath you? Atop? Ssspeak, that I may know how bessst to...serve." 

"Mm. This will suffice, I think." Tarriel murmured her reply, propping herself up on a thick coil of Uraess' tail and raising one of her legs suggestively. "I am a sick woman, after all. The medicae would have a fit if I over-exerted myself."

The Sslyth needed no further encouragement. His eyes gleamed eagerly as he curled around, lining his torso up with hers, and for a moment the light died as he passed in front of the crack in the drapes. There was just him - only him, looming overhead like a monstrous and hungry shadow, his twin cocks dripping long strings of alien precome as he slithered into place above her. Clawed hands grasped the Rogue Trader's thighs and eased her legs open, even as a second pair of arms circled her waist and held her tight.

There was a bump - first against her thigh, then slithering higher into the crook of her leg. Then another against her buttock, hot and hard and wet and so very, very large. Tarriel bit her lip and swallowed, fighting to keep her composure. Certain things were expected of a woman in her position, and it wouldn't do to appear too needy. But as she felt those aching points drag tantalisingly into position, grazing the sensitive lips of her sex and butting at her tight rear, she was helpless to prevent another husky moan from slipping forth. As if taking that as his cue, Uraess tensed - a muscular spasm which Tarriel felt rippling through him, from his scarred chest to the powerful tail she lay upon - and thrust.

It was lightning. It was thunder. It was the blow from the Ork's hammer all over again. The tip of Uraess' first shaft slipped into her passage and plunged deep, driving the air from her lungs in a single glorious exhalation. The Sslyth's mouth yawned wide in a silent howl of pleasure as Tarriel tightened around him, fangs a handspan in length shining in the dim half-light that fought its way around his hulking form. He pulled back and thrust again, and again, each thrust coiling up through his serpentine body and driving him ever-deeper into the Rogue Trader's shuddering form. 

There was a little pain - from her sex as she stretched around Uraess' monstrous prick, which Tarriel knew from experience wouldn't last, but from her wounded ribs as well. The first was enjoyable in its own way, but the second was most assuredly not. Catching the Sslyth around the nose, Tarriel clamped his jaws shut and dragged his head down to meet her gaze.

"A little slower, if you please," she hissed through gritted teeth, though the words melted into a pleasurable slurry as Uraess eased his pace. A few more undulating thrusts and the pain began to fade. A few more and it was gone entirely. In its place came the familiar wash of sensations she so enjoyed - the strength of the alien's grip, the tickling flutter of his tongue as he taste-scented her skin, the marble smoothness of his scales gliding over her naked body. Purring in satisfaction, Tarriel released the Sslyth's snout and reclined once more, draping her arms around his shoulders and rocking herself deeper onto his cock. 

Hard ridges of alien flesh plucked at her folds, and the Rogue Trader found herself wrapping a leg around Uraess' waist, pulling him ever-closer as she fucked back in time with his movements. Of all the aliens she had indulged herself with, Tarriel thought, Uraess really was something special. It seemed as though every part of him was designed for pleasure, and what he lacked in imagination he made up for in pliability and enthusiasm both. She could even feel the line of metal piercings at work inside her, each one surging against her passage, a tiny, singing bead of ecstasy next to the swell of his penetration. 

And that was only the first of what he had to offer her.

Beneath their entwined bodies lay Uraess' second hemipenes, humping uselessly away between her buttocks and drooling precome over her sheets. Tarriel had experimented with only taking one of Uraess' organs at a time and come to the conclusion it was a pointless venture. It left him moody and unfulfilled, but far more importantly, it felt to her like such a terrible waste. Why indulge her God-Emperor given right to fraternise with alien species if she wasn't going to do so to her full ability?

"Missstress, are you - may I - " Uraess' groan was pained, his voice rumbling with effort as he fought to keep his instincts in check. He shook against her, as tight and desperate as if he had been riding the edge of release for hours. Tarriel smiled patiently and reached out for her abandoned wineglass, a hint of cruelty in her eyes as she savoured its contents before setting it back down.

"Oh, yes. You may," she replied, rolling her hips back and raising her buttocks invitingly. Uraess needed no further invitation, and Tarriel let out a sharp gasp as the burning tip of his second prick began to butt against her ass. She took a breath, held it, and for a moment tried to relax - to forget the surging pleasure in her core, the teasing sting of the alien's claws, his rasping grunts and hisses as he panted in her ear. To forget everything and let herself go slack, so that he might -

The moment hung, anticipation turning scant seconds into tantalising hours. Hands slid beneath Tarriel's cheeks and grasped her thighs, pulling her up and forwards, into the growing pressure against her lower entrance. It felt enormous - hot and bloated, rubbing back and forth as Uraess lubricated her with his pre. She bit her lip, fighting to keep a wild grin from her face as her last barrier - that tight little ring of muscle - began to give way. Above her, Uraess began a long, drawn out snarl, his fangs bared and eyes narrowed with effort.

And then something popped. The tension vibrating through Uraess' body finally found its outlet, and he slammed home with a thrust strong enough that even his mistress' composure broke for a moment. Tarriel wailed, shaking in ecstasy as both of the Sslyth's alien pricks slammed home, stretching her aching walls tight and flooding her body with heat and hardness. For a moment she could do little more than tremble against him, riding out the coruscating waves of pleasure with arms wrapped around the brawny alien's shoulders and legs clinging tight to his waist, before she let out a shuddering breath and forced herself to relax. 

"Ahem. Well. I trust you're a little more comfortable now?" Tarriel asked, relinquishing her death-grip and reaching for her glass. Uraess rasped something like an affirmative, a bleary haze of satisfaction settling over his scaly features as Tarriel's inner walls rippled and clenched around his cocks. They lay there for a few moments, each adjusting to the other, Tarriel alternating between taking sips from her glass and pouring measures across her bust for Uraess to lap up. She could feel him - every inch of him, throbbing steadily in her core, separated only by the gossamer-thin barrier between her passages. Uraess nuzzled at her face, his tongue flicking out across her dark lips, hungry for the last drops of crimson wine which clung there. It was only then that the vast, serpentine alien planted his upper arms either side of Tarriel's head, digging his claws into her pillow, and began to thrust once more.

He filled her. He filled her to the very core. With her sudden climax passed, Tarriel could better appreciate just how tightly she was stretched around the alien's twin cocks, how deeply they burrowed into her languid form. One cock would be dragged smoothly from her body, slowly enough that she could feel every ridge and piercing tugging against her entrance as it slid clear, followed closely by its twin. For half a heartbeat she would hang there, feeling the sudden emptiness inside, before both were plunged into her aching depths once more. It was like copulating with an unending, onyx landslide; the Sslyth was everywhere, around her, inside her, above her. His scent hung thick in the air, sweet-spicy and intoxicating, and his hisses of exertion seemed to fill the room with their rumbling bass notes. 

And yet, it wasn't enough. Tarriel moaned huskily and fucked back against the alien's twin pricks, clenching down upon them so tightly she could feel Uraess' heartbeat thundering between her trembling thighs. Even as the Sslyth's undulating thrusts grew faster and more intense, the pain in her ribs no longer troubled her. It was there in the background, but like an ageing coolant pipe banging amidst the din of the Esperanza's void-engines, the Rogue Trader was barely aware and cared even less. She reached up, winding her slender arms around Uraess' steely biceps and pulling herself high enough to look the alien in the eye.

"As pleasing as this is," Tarriel said, forcing herself to speak steadily, refusing the tremors she could feel bubbling up inside. "I'm starting to get bored. Is this really the best you can do, xenos? Can you not fuck me any harder?"

Uraess' only reply was a low growl; the alien was in a place beyond speech, conscious thought washed away by the desperate need to rut. It took a moment for Tarriel's words to penetrate his addled mind, but then in an instant he was upon her; crushing her into the bed, his secondary arms clutching her tight against his body, one shove-like hand enough to grab her wrists tight and yank them above the helpless Rogue Trader's head. Tarriel's legs kicked and trembled as Uraess assailed her with everything he had, pummelling her with thrusts that would have broken a younger or weaker woman in half. The sound of scales slapping against dusky skin filled the room, mixed with Tarriel's rising wails of delight as she felt her climax coming again. Uraess, too, was beginning to convulse; she could feel it in his tail, a series of tight spasms that spoke of the Ssylths' imminent peak.

For a moment the world seemed to collapse, falling in upon itself until everything beyond the bed and the writhing, serpentine alien she had coiled herself around ceased to exist. She felt every teasing sting as her nipples dragged over Uraess' chest, every jolt as another pierced inch slid in and out of her rear passage, every manic beat of their hearts as they coasted towards their orgasms. Tarriel reached for it, grinding back against Uraess all the harder, digging her fingers into his scales in an effort to keep him from coming before she did.

In the end, they came practically together. Tarriel crested the rising wave of pleasure sweeping through her prone form first, biting her lip so hard she tasted blood in an effort to maintain some semblance of composure as she bucked and twisted beneath Uraess' writhing form. But even as her orgasm struck, Uraess rose before her like the tide, one of his cocks slipping free from her twitching sex with a wet sucking noise. The Rogue Trader had just enough time to see him grasp it with a spare hand and begin pumping before he came, pumping rope after rope of thick, pearly seed into her bowels with one shaft and ejaculating copiously across her chest with the second. It was far thicker than a man's would be, hot and stringy and seemingly endless, swirling into her core and clinging in sticky rivulets to her breasts and belly and beyond.

For the second time, both partners fell still, the room silent bar their heavy panting. Strings of alien seed oozed from Tarriel's hindquarters, bottled up in place only by the length of turgid flesh still buried inside her. Uraess released his second length and ducked his head in embarrassment as Tarriel drew a golden finger through the pearly mess clinging to her skin.

"I don't remember asking you to do that," she remarked coolly, pressing her thumb and forefinger together and watching in vague disinterest as the glob of semen stretched between them. Uraess cringed, wringing two of his hands together in an oddly human guesture.

"Wass not intentional, missstress. It came free and - "

"I didn't say I disapproved. My, but there is a lot of this. Were you feeling particularly bottled up today?" Tarriel flicked the gunk from her fingers. "No matter. I suppose I'll need a bath now. Go and get me a towel. And some painkillers."

She winced as Uraess withdrew and slithered obediently down from the bed. With the moment passed, the pain in her ribs was coming back, biting savagely into the warmth of the afterglow she had worked so hard for. Tarriel slowly propped herself up, wiping helplessly at the pearly mess Uraess had left her with. "And the next time you make a mistake like that, know that you'll be licking it off yourself!" she added, scowling in frustration as it began to drip and trickle onto the sheets. 

Her irritation was only compounded when Uraess returned. Taking her towel and mopping up the worst of his stray ejaculate, Tarriel pointed accusingly at the armoured chest plate Uraess had donned.

"And what, pray tell, is that?"

The Sslyth looked at her in confusion. "Isss armour, missstress. I assssumed we were - "

"You assumed wrong. Get it off. I'm not going back to that bloody medicae so she can give me the I-told-you-so routine." Tarriel rolled her eyes. "I'm going to fuck you until my ribs stop hurting, or until I'm so bloody addled I won't be able to feel them for days." She paused, glaring at Uraess. "And if you're not undressed and back in the bath house in thirty seconds, you're going out the airlock with whatever batch of idiots thought I was dead in the first place."

With that she turned and strode purposefully off, towel draped around her metallic shoulders. Uraess paused for a moment, let out a long-suffering sigh, then abandoned his armour and turned to follow.

Even Sslyth had their limits, and this was going to be a very long evening.

**Author's Note:**

> Written November 2020.


End file.
